Runnels

Watching and looking
as the many seem to be the few,
silences alone cannot resound
Yet such is the clatter that
echoes in the minds of all,

Tools that are carried and
made more dangerous
That pristine field, that canvas
Take and seed it, the way it
cries out to be used
Who amongst us will take, knowing
that with that taking,
Not only,
those blue skies but
those ravening nights,
those silent scatterings
of my minds,
like peaches for penguins,
Like the release of my own fires
Burning, leaping, smoldering,
Consume All that lies before

she lay in awkward offering,
He sent her away,
to look and leap
chasms and
buffer layers within
Was the sound like the falling
of water in a rock,
inexorably lifting, sometimes
Pattering,
those runnels, those caves,
those large dank rocks under
which they live
Take me and feed me the entrails
those monkey parodies,
that clanker sounding off My hide